Siege of Winterfell, the Night Kings attack reimagined
by ScruffyStarWarsFan
Summary: The army of the living prepares for the attack by the army of the dead. My own take on the siege of Winterfell from the tv-show


_Just my reimagining of the siege of Winterfell as the undead attack. So, if you agree or have issues with this, why not let me know with a comment or two!_

**_Winterfell_**

The murder of crows flew low in over the forest, snow in the air and already four inches of it covering the ground, the branches of every tree weighed down by snow and ice. Looking down with pale white eyes, the forty crows watched a flood of people that slowly pushed their way through the trees of the forest, dragging their feet in the snow.

Bran woke up from his connection with the birds. Without emotion showing on his features, he turned to the people that joined him in the great hall of Winterfell. "They are coming" Bran said. "They will be here by nightfall and surround us. I have seen them to the north, to the east and to the west. By days end, they will without a doubt be found to the south as well."

A somber mood settled in the hall.

"There will be no escape" Tormund Giantsbane said through his massive red beard. "We fight and die here. Winning or losing doesnt matter."

"No." Jon Snow gained everyones attention as he leaned against the table where the map of the area surrounding Winterfell had been placed, small wooden figures all over it to represent various troops. "Winning is all that matters" Jon continued. "If we fail here, word must be sent south so a defense can be staged at the Twins. And if the Twins fall, we must stage a defense at the Trident."

"And if that fails?" Sansa asked.

Jon sighed. "Then I imagine there wont be many of us left alive."

Ser Davos Seaworthy shook his head. "Then let's make sure it doesnt come to that. We fight them here. And we defeat them here."

Ser Brienne of Tarth took a step forward and turned to one of the lords present, one she knew quite well. "Ser Jamie." The Lannister knight and heir looked up from his cup of wine at the mention of his name. "You are the most seasoned in war among us. Our enemy outnumber us by far. But we have a castle, we have cavalry... and we have dragons. How do we win this battle?"

Jamie put the cup to the side, sighed and got on his feet. Walking up to the table with the map and figures, he studied it for a moment. "They will attack at night? Is that what we can assume?"

"Yes" Bran said, his voice void of emotion.

Ser Davos placed all figures representing friendly troops ontop of Winterfell on the map. "The walls are our biggest advantage. Each man can hold off twenty attackers. We have axes, spears and arrows made from Dragon Glas. Our archers will kill plenty of the enemy before they can even climb the walls. And once the undead reach the top, our weapons will kill them. They dont have ladders and they dont have siege-towers. Let them surround us and let them die by the walls like any other army."

Tyrion, goblet of wine in hand as per usual, sipped his drink before sharing his thoughts. "Except, this is no ordinary army. Do they even have to attack? They could simply surround us and starve us out. They dont eat, dont sleep, dont drink. You all do realize that we can never win a siege against them?"

Varis sighed. "A most intolerable thought."

"You are clever, little brother" Jamie said, glancing at Tyrion. "But we have something that will force them to attack." He turned to face Danaerys Stormborn. "Dragons. Our dragons can kill their entire army if they simply try and starve us. No, they will attack, and they will attack in force." Jamie reached out with his one remaining hand, moving the two wooden dragons to the far south and then did the same with all figures of horses. "The dothraki, and the dragons, will be kept well out of harms way, waiting for the moment to attack." He then set up the figures of lions and crucified men, who now represented the undead horde, so they surrounded the troops in Winterfell. "The enemy will attack at night. We wont be able to see them properly. They will most likely attack the main gate with full force, since they have no way of climbing the walls." Jamie now moved the two dragons and placed them east and west of Winterfell. "When the undead are pressed up against our walls, that is when the dragons will sweep in. Circle Winterfell, blast them with fire. Time and time again. In a matter of heartbeats, thousands of them will die from the fire. And when the fires are burning, we can now see the enemy." Jon and Danenerys looked at each other. The Mother of Dragons smiled at Jamies plan as they turned their attention back to the map and figures. "This is when the dothraki will attack" Jamie continued and moved the wooden horses. "In the light from the fires, the dothraki can move in, attack the enemy in the rear, retreat and lure the undead to follow, flanking them with more horses. Then attack the main force again, fall back and overwhelm the enemies that are in pursuit. As long as our walls are not breached, we will wither them down until they are all burning."

"A wise plan" Jorah Mormont said and nodded. "The dothraki excel at hit and run attacks. I would imagine that the undead are illprepared to counter such tactics."

Tyrion, having sipped his wine, shrugged his shoulders. "I would assume not to imagine anything, when it concerns undead creatures intent to kill us all."

Lord Yohn Royce of the Knights of the Vale, a bitter frown as always on his features, turned to the others as he spoke. "The gate will be our weakest point. If it falls, it must be held by men and steel. I volounteer the soldiers and knights of House Arryn to hold the gate, should it be breached."

Jorah Mormont shook his head. "No" he said. "Forgive me, Lord Royce, but if any body of soldiers can hold a breached gate, it would be the Unsullied. Their shieldwall and wall of spears will not be easily overcome, be the enemy the undead or otherwise."

Greyworm, hands on his back as always in strict military fashion, looked proud as he slightly tilted his chin up. "The Unsullied will hold the gate, for as long as needed. Or until all Unsullied are dead."

Jon, still leaning against the table, turned to the commander of the troops from the Vale. "Your men, Lord Royce, will hold the keep. If our outer defenses are breached and overrun, the next battle will be at the keep. There, the knights of the Vale will earn their worth."

Lord Royce, clearly not in agreement, offerd a bow at Jon Snow. "As you wish."

Jon nodded as he studied the map and its figures. "The wildlings and northmen will hold the walls. The Unsullied will hold the gate. The knights of the Vale will hold the keep. The dothraki will harrass the enemy once the dragons begin setting the undead on fire." He looked up at all present. "It is the best we can do."

"You forget one thing, my lords and ladies" Beric Dondarion said, arms folded over his chest. "I saw it with my own eyes at Eastwatch-by-the-Sea, as it tore down the Wall." The one-eyed desciple of the God of Light gained everyones attention. "The enemy has a dragon of their own."

"I will deal with it" Danaerys said, her lips stiff. The very thought of her child, stolen and twisted by foul magic, made her heart as black as the night itself. "My dragons will deal with this... abomination."

Jon nodded. "Good." He then turned to Bran. "You will stay here, in the great hall. It is the most well protected place in the entire castle. The Night King will have to fight his way through every one of us before he can enter this room."

"He will" Bran replied, his words not inspiring any hope at all.

"I will protect you" Jon said.

"No" Theon Greyjoy cut in. "You are needed out there. The men need you by their side. You need to command them."

Jon glanced at each present and received looks and nods that told him that Theon was right.

"I will protect your brother" Theon then said. "The Iron Born will hold the great hall as a last line of defense. If you will allow it." Theon turned to look at Sansa, and she allowed a minor smile to grow on her lips.

Jon eyed Theon with hard eyes. "Fine" he then said. "Repay your debt, Theon. Keep my brother alive."

Theon's face turned as hard as rock. "I will, Jon. Or I will die trying. You have my word."

Tyrion finished his goblet of wine and placed it to the side. "I'm all out of wine" he said, looking miserable. "Now this day cant truly get any worse."

**_Winter has Come_**

The North was lit up by a huge fullmoon shining bright white against the dark backdrop of the night sky. All was quiet. A cold breeze gently swept across the land. Winterfell, its towers and ramparts covered in snow, appeared as pitchblack against the surroundings, its stones dark and frightening against the bright snow that covered the land.

On the walls stood soldiers and warriors, bannermen of House Stark side by side with the wildling tribes from the beyond the wall, looking with worried eyes out across the fields that no longer could be farmed due to winter having settled in earnest. Dark forrests surrounded them in the distance, as the the distant hills and mountains. They all knew the enemy was out there, an enemy to terrible to imagine. Tormund Giantsbane was one of them, a horn filled with mead in his hand that he slowly drank from, the mead dripping from his impressive beard; even he could not hide the fear of fighting what was about to come at them.

Ser Davos was leaning against the edge of the tower he was standing in, looking out at the North through the mist his breath created with every breath. Surrounded by archers and their firearrows and arrows of dragon glass, he was also joined by Jon Snow.

"This moon works in our favor" the Onion Knight said. "We can see for miles in this light. And the snow makes it easy to spot an incoming army."

Jon said nothing at first, pulling the warm cloak slightly tighter around his shoulders. "A quarter of a mile" he then said. "The closest wooded hill is a quarter of a mile away. The furthest away forrest is half a mile out."

"Not close enough for them to be able to sneak up on us" Ser Davos said, glancing at the Stark bastard. "They wont escape our arrows."

"I suppose not" Snow said. "But something tells me they couldn't care less about our arrows."

Below, the Unsullied filled the courtyard, their cohorts arranged to defend the main gate. Grey Worm, helmet under his arm, shield on his back and spear in hand, walked infront of his men and inspected them. Fearless. He nodded at the sight, knowing his men would not falter, no matter what came through that gate. Hundreds of spears and shields would recieve any that managed to break through the massive oak gate of Winterfell. Grey Worm knew they would hold. They would hold.

At the other end of the courtyard, stairs of stone was leading up to a large building. At the top of the stairs was a wide door, still open and not bolted. But inside, shoulders pressing against shoulders, stood the troops from the Vale, the knights and bannermen of House Arryn. And in front, Lord Royce and Ser Brienne, stern and ready to defend the keep to the last. Next to Brienne stood Podrick, sword in hand; the squire clearly not having made his peace with the Seven just yet, fear alight in his eyes at the prospect of fighting the dead.

The Hound was sitting down, resting his back against the rampart of a section of the wall, a skin of wine in hand that he freely drank from. Drinking to drown his fears, to drown his memories, to drown his regrets.

"You drink too much."

Clegane looked up and found Arya Stark standing next to him, looking down.

The Hound sneered. "Go away, girl. Can't you let a man drink in peace."

Arya knelt, eyes fixed on The Hounds. "We need you tonight. You and your dragon glass axe. If you're too drunk to stand, then what good are you?"

"Look at you" Clegane said with a frown. "Thinking you know anything of battle just 'cos you've fucking managed to slice a couple of throats." He sneered once more and drank another mouthful.

"I mean it" Arya said. "We need every man and woman able to fight tonight. And you are one of the best fighters in all the Seven Kingdoms. So put the wine away and act like a man and stand your ground!"

The Hound simply shook his head. "We're all gonna be dead by morning. Marching with the army of the dead southward. So what's the fucking point?"

Arya, her eyes fierce, stiffened her lips. "The point is to kill these bastards, whatever the cost."

Another voice made itself known and both Arya and Clegane turned to look as it spoke. "The girl speaks the truth, Sandor." Beric Dondarion walked over to them with a hint of a smile on his bearded face. "Tonight, everyone of us must do our part to stop the Night King."

Sandor Clegane frowned and spat at the ground. "This evening keeps getting worse and worse. I was just hoping to finish this wine in peace before we all end up as walking corpses."

Dondarion turned his one good eye on the distant woodlands beyond the white fields of snow, resting one hand against the cold stone of the battlements. "If we can hold these walls, and if the Dragon Queen can kill the undead dragon… then her children will be able to burn the Night Kings army to ash, all of it. But only if we hold these walls." He glanced down at Arya and The Hound. "If they breach the walls, we are doomed. Save the wine for later, Sandor. If we survive this, I will gladly finish that skin with you."

Clegane reluctantly put the cork back into the skin and got up on his feet, turning to look out towards the horizon. "Damn you two are lousy company. We are already dead, you just refuse to realize it. We are all fucking dead. Living corpses just waiting to get claimed by the fucking Night King. Might as well embrace it and drink wine while doing it."

"You're such a shit" Arya said with a frown.

"That he is" Dondarion said with a crooked smile. "But he will play his part in the battle to come. The God of Light is watching… and we will all play our part. For the night is dark and full of terrors."

"Yes" Arya said. "Soon the Night King will find that out too."

Far away from Winterfell and the frightened troops aiming to defend its walls, high up on a mountaintop covered in snow and ice, sat two monstrous beasts; claws digging into ice and rock alike. Rhaegal and Drogon, the children of Danaerys Stormborn, growled and hissed as they were bathed in moonlight. On the back of Drogon, the Mother of Dragons herself straddled the mighty beast and looked out across the vast plains and rolling hills, the fields and the forrests, all covered in the pale light of the full moon above. Winterfell was a black blob in the middle of a sea of white. Danaerys studied the scene, the landscape, tension in her chest. She saw no sign of the undead, yet she knew they were out there. But the army slowly surrounding Winterfell wasn't what concerned her, instead she focused to scan the skies, the clouds, her eyes searching the vast darkness above for any sign of… what once was Viserion, her child. The thought caused a great hole in her heart to grow deeper still.

Gendry, resting a large two-handed weapon crowned by a heavy piece of obsidian with a sharp spike cut from the rock over his shoulder, was standing with what remained of the Nights Watch atop the gatehouse. Breathing heavily, he struggled to keep his feelings of panic in control. The Lord Commander, Eddison Tollet, an old friend of Jon Snow and a veteran from Hardhome, stood next to the bastard of House Baratheon and looked like a man who had accepted his fate. It was with a shrug of his shoulders that Eddison glanced at Gendry.

"You know… the gate is where they will hit us the hardest."

"I know" Gendry said and nodded.

"They will send undead giants here" Eddison said, eying the dark woods half a mile away.

"I know" Gendry said and nodded again.

Eddison sighed. "Undead bears… undead mammoths… undead dire wolves… fucking undead…"

"I get it!" Gendry snapped. "I get it."

Eddison eyed the bastard next to him as the young man tried to keep calm. Eddison shrugged his shoulders and pulled his black coat tighter around his body, waiting for the inevitable.

Jon Snow sighed heavily, still up in the tower. He could still see nothing out there, nothing moved, not a bird, not a snowflake. All was calm, quiet, save for a gentle sensation of a cold breeze.

"I hate waiting" Davos said. "It's worse than the fighting itself."

"I know what you mean" Jon said with a nod.

"Jon! Jon!"

Everyone turned around as Samwell Tarly came climbing the stairs leading up to the top of the tower. As he made it all the way up, he took a moment to catch his breath, a moment that felt like it lasted forever to Jon.

"Well?" Jon eventually asked. "What is it?"

"Your… your brother…" Sam began. "He's… seen them. They're coming… Bran has seen them… they are here. We are surrounded."

Jon instantly turned around and scouted the darkness, trying to spot anything that would indicate the enemy presence. But he saw nothing. Nor did anyone else.

"This is it then" Davos said and drew his obsidian hatchet that he carried in his belt.


End file.
